


Caccia Carnevale

by Rosebudwhite



Series: Death and the Detective [2]
Category: Highlander: The Series, Wallander (UK TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Male Friendship, Murder, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1889943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosebudwhite/pseuds/Rosebudwhite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus continues his education in the ways of the immortals under Methos' tutelage.  Yet with his first new identity and the chance of a holiday, the pair find it's much more a busman's holiday than they would have hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caccia Carnevale

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal thanks to recurringdreamsposts for writing me a murder.
> 
> This first part is a lot of exposition, and hopefully I have caught the personality right of another familiar face, but if you have some criticisms, I’m willing to make a few adjustments if I’m not quite on course!
> 
> Enjoy!

_I wavered, momentarily, shielded in the shadowed corner by the banner overhanging me, the heavy fabric clinging to the marbled pillars across St. Mark’s Square, watching as he paced through the crowd, watching, waiting, trying to find a companion. People were in masks – I was bemasked, face covered, lips painted a brilliant blue, watching him stumble back and forth._

_He was drunk, he would be weak._

_I made my way through the crowd, ducking beneath women on stilts, men with masks harlequin patterned, pinks, and golds and tassled, colouring the world as the sun went down._

_In an alley, slipping from the square and away from the noise of the crowds, along a cobbled street that nobody would frequent, that nobody would look down as long as the noises, the whistles, the screams and shrieks of ecstasy would distract them, keep them looking away from me. From him._

_“fermarsi lì!” I called, throwing out my hand as he turned, “Signor-“_

_“Scusi?” He replied, and I was given my first true look at the man I had sworn would not survive the night. I moved towards him, and he watched me, watched my every movement. He smiled as he reached out, to shake my hand, expectantly watching my face. I would not speak with him for long. Simply long enough to scare him._

_Who are you?_

_A friend, I replied simply, smiling, a benefactor, as it were. His face brightened, and I stared upon the soft silks of his costume, red and black, red and white, sewn together finely with what looked like the most feminine of touches. He sensed my hesitation and frowned._

_You like my costume?_

_Blood red, I whispered, raising a hand and pressing it to the white fur on his collar. It fluttered against my fingers, twisting, turning, fluff peeling from the ruff as I pulled at it, watched it, smiled. He seemed to think I was simple, for a moment, and turned away, shaking his head to continue on his way. I would not let him win in such a manner. Swiftly, I drew the knife from my sleeve, pressed slimly against my forearm by a band which I let fall to the floor. My fingers clutched at his collar, pulled at his jacket, tore at his face as I reached for him, pulled him back to me and flayed once at his throat, a burst of blood following the path of my hand as the knife glinted in the setting sun, blood glinted in the setting sun and sprayed, splayed, all over the wall before him._

_Briefly, he gurgled, trying to speak, trying to find the words for me, find the ways he  could call to the authorities, tell them he was dying, he was fading, blood mingling against the soft furs, trickling down, down, seeping into his silks as he stood, buckled, stumbled and crawled. I kicked at him once, as he collapsed in the street, life trickling down between the cobbles._

_I smirked, padded away, swiped a hand at my mouth as I tasted the blood on my lips. Foul. But it was done._

\-----

The cabin, and all the surrounding woods, were quiet.  Magnus strode from one end to the other of the small structure, he felt like a caged animal.  He had practiced the fencing exercises Adam had been insistent that he master until his sword hand was numb.  Now all he could do was wait whilst Adam worked out their next move.  He resorted to eating his way through the fridge out of boredom.

Magnus pushed the scrambled egg around the plate as he sighed heavily.  He missed the chokladkaka at his favourite café and his mormors gröt.  Each day brought more and more disappointments, more reasons to hate what he had become and they were not always the things he’d expected.  For sure he missed his family, his work colleagues and his job but it was the familiarity of the streets and places he had grown up with, the foods and the smells of the sea.  It would have to be fifty years before he would be able to walk down them freely again without causing alarm.

The keys in the lock and the accompanying internal buzz jolted Magnus from his meal.  “What took you so long?”  He shouted towards the door, but his hand grasped for the pommel of his sword, in case it was not his teacher who had returned.

“I told you these things took time.”  Adam appeared in the kitchen with a stack of travel brochures under one arm and a large padded envelope in the grip of his other hand.  Placing them in front of Magnus he resumed, “So where shall we continue your education next?”

“I don’t know.”  Magnus released his grip on the sword and went back to prodding the eggs with his fork once more.

Adam either did not pick up his complete disinterest or chose to ignore it.  “Let’s narrow it down; you speak English, yes?”  Adam swapped languages mid-sentence.  This made Magnus sit up.

“Err, yes English,” he replied in the same.  “As well as German, some Danish and Norwegian, enough to do my job, and a bit of French.”

“Impressive start.”

“Well, how many do you speak?”

“Most, too many to count, but most are easy enough to pick up once you understand their origins.  Latin, German, Arabic.  I’ve watched them all evolve.”

“That makes you old, how old are you really then?”

“Enough with the questions.  I have a present for you.”  Adam waved away the question, and moved to retrieve the envelope from the top of the pile.  Annoyed Magnus stood, grabbed his plate and practically threw it in the sink.  The clatter brought Adam’s attention back to the young detective.  “What was that for?”

“You really are an annoying bastard.  You won’t tell me your name, you won’t tell me your age, yet you expect me to trust you and believe everything you tell me.  How do I know this is just some weird kidnap scenario?”

Adam’s face was passive.  He cocked his thumb over his shoulder.  “Door’s there.”

“You’ll let me just go?”

“Yes.  And you will get less than 50 metres and then I will take your head.”

“So much for teacher-pupil trust.”

“Ahhh, and there it is.  You want me to trust you, but you will not trust me.”  Adam’s lips curled into a smirk.  Magnus conceded and sheepishly sat back on the stool.  “Can we have no more talk of this?  And open your present.”  He tossed the envelope to Magnus.

Magnus eyed Adam and put his misgivings to one side as he reached into the envelope and pulled out three documents.  A passport, a driving licence and a birth certificate.

Adam made to fill the kettle as Magnus read through the documents, memorising his new identity.

“Martin Herbert?  Are you serious?”

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s the most ridiculous name in the world.”

“Well what would you have preferred?”

“Can’t I keep Magnus?”

“Not if you want to keep your head, Magnus Martinsson is still dead remember?”

Magnus huffed as he turned the passport over in his hands.  It could be worse, somehow it could be worse, but he couldn’t think how at that moment in time.

Adam sat opposite and placed two steaming mugs of coffee in front of each of them.  “So where would Martin like to visit first?”

Magnus picked up the first brochure and flicked through it.  “I’m bored of the countryside.  Let’s have some fun, where’s good at this time of the year?”

“February?  I know just the place.”  Adam flicked through one himself and when he had found what he was after, he pointed to the brightly coloured page.

Magnus/Martin smiled.  “Perfect.”

\-----

As the two men approached the barriers, the jolt of a new quickening was a shock to the system.  Magnus looked around the crowds for the other whom he felt.  It was still such a new sensation that it made him start each time that it washed over him.  What he was not expecting was a very attractive woman to be suddenly waving and shouting loudly from behind a group of backpackers.

“Cooey!  Over here!”

Magnus turned to his companion and, as he watched, the man visibly deflated at the sound of the woman’s voice.  “Damn.”

“A friend?”

“Something like that.”

The older man led Magnus towards the barrier and approached the woman.  Magnus held back really not knowing what to make of this new development.  She was only the second other immortal he had met and she was not what he was expecting.  Her tall frame contrasted with the short cropped shock white hair and her bright red lipstick and dark eyes were memorising.  Magnus felt a stirring which made him feel like a teenager.

“I can’t believe you’re here.  It’s been so long.”  Her American accent drawled sexily as she air kissed Adam twice on each cheek.  She seemed to then notice Magnus standing in Adam’s shadow.  “And who’s your friend?”

Adam waved his hand between the pair and made the introductions in his usual curt manner.  “Magnus, Amanda.  Amanda, Magnus.”

Magnus took a chance, and as she held out her manicured fingers, he took the proffered hand and lifted it gently to his lips.

She peered at him with amusement, “I like this one, Methos.  Can I keep him?”

Adam glanced around the terminal.  “No, he’s still learning, so no flirting.”

Magnus, however had caught what he assumed Adam had hoped to skirt over.  “Methos?  Is that your real name?”

Adam was now riled.  “Doesn't matter.  Leave it.”

Magnus smiled inwardly, he knew it was only a matter of gathering the evidence.  He filed mentally it for further investigation later.

Amanda’s hands flew to her mouth.  “Shit, did I do something wrong?  Are you in hiding again?”

“Not talking about it.  We’re here for a holiday, more to the point, why are you here?”

“Just passing through.  I was meant to be meeting a friend, but he never showed.  Was going to catch the next plane out but then I felt you two.  But I’m sure I can stay for a bit longer if you two are planning some fun.”  She linked her arms in theirs and steered them towards the exit.  “Carnevale is one of the best times to experience Venice.”

Magnus enjoyed her chatter, and her anecdotes of the history of the festival carried them all the way to the hotel.  She was a veteran at the event and her escapades were legendary; she had apparently been half the reason for the banning of the event in 1797.

\-----

Adam excused himself from the table.  Magnus watched his teacher slink through the crowded restaurant and turned back to their companion for the meal.  She seemed to be content to people watch and he was content to watch her.  Yet the gnawing of the perfect opportunity to find out more about Adam, kept him from admiring her for too long.

“Can I ask you who he is?  Is this Methos is real name?”

Amanda smiled, “I’m sure he has a reason from keeping things from you.”

“How can I trust him when I don’t know anything about him?”

Her head fell back with the deep laugh she emitted.  “None of us know enough about that man to ever be content.  However I can tell you that he is annoying, stubborn, sarcastic, and apathetic at times and generally a complete asshole.  Yet,“ Amanda paused as she took a sip of her vodka, “he is skilled and cunning and though he will never admit it, fiercely protective and loyal to those he loves.  That list you can probably count on one hand, so if you’ve made it this far, count yourself lucky.”

Magnus just listened.  He still didn’t know who Adam, or this Methos, were really, but he was determined to find out.  Adam’s return brought a halt to any further questioning.

They ordered and devoured their desserts before settling into their chairs deeper with the satisfaction of a delicious meal ingested.

As he swirled his brandy around the glass, Adam ventured to some questioning of his own.  “Why are you really here Amanda, why did you stay?  You must want something otherwise you’d have said hello and hopped on a plane anyway.”

"Do I have to want something to-” She saw Adams face, "so yes, well that old friend who didn’t meet me?  He’s… I’ve now heard that other people, his friends, are looking for him too.  He has gone missing, properly missing.”

“Is he an old friend or an _old_ friend?”

“Mortal, he and I… worked together once or twice.  He had fallen on hard times once, and was left with only one last thing to pawn.  Luckily he is very talented, so Carnevale is one of his busiest times.  I'm worried, he never stays with someone beyond one night.”

Magnus’ jaw dropped, “A… a prostitute?”

“I think he would prefer ‘entertainment escort’ or the very least ‘gigolo’.  For those lonely souls who venture to the festival on their own.”

Adam gave a chuckle, “I would have thought as a policeman you’d have been less shocked Magnus?”

“There wasn’t much of a red light district in Ystad.”  He replied meekly, but that did give him an idea.  To Amanda he said, “If it helps I am, _was_ a detective, before I died.  Maybe I can help look for your friend, if you’d like?”

Amanda beamed and placed her hand over his.  “You are very kind Magnus, as long as it doesn’t keep you from enjoying yourself, this was meant to be your holiday after all.”

“Using my brain rather than just training with my sword would be a relief for a change.”  Turning to Adam, he added, “If you don’t mind, we didn’t have any other concrete plans did we?”

He shrugged, “Playing detectives could be fun.  Though I will warn you, all I know is what I learnt from Agatha Christie.”

“Her books are amazing, Death on the Nile is part of the reason I became a policeman in the first place.”

Offhandedly Adam added, “Oh I’ve never read any of her books, though she was quite a firecracker herself.”

Magnus and Amanda turned to him in surprise.  Amanda asked for both of them, “You never said…”

He gave a wink back.  “You weren’t the only one who had fun in the 20’s.”

Magnus downed his drink as he realised he was never going to get used to the timescales that Adam worked in.


End file.
